


Hurt

by jinpachiii



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, if you haven't finished rdr2 don't read this, john "crying and masturbating" marston
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 12:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17642711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinpachiii/pseuds/jinpachiii
Summary: John reminisces about the years he spent with Arthur.





	Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> i'm listening to johnny cash and crying

John was all alone.

 

Everyone he had ever loved was gone.

 

Abigail took off with Jack about a year ago, saying something about how she could never be truly happy with the life that he had tried so goddamn hard to provide for her and their son, and he'd lost touch with the few members of the gang that he bothered to try and keep up with.

 

Some days were worse than others.

 

John could understand Abigail--Could understand that she wanted more out of life than what he was giving her. And he'd mostly made peace with that. He didn't have too many great memories of the gang that were left untainted after everything went to shit, so he didn't let that get to him too much either.

 

The ones he did have, though...those were the ones that kept him up at night.

 

The memories of Arthur.

-

John exhaled a final puff of smoke and snubbed out the cigar he had been smoking on the porch and headed inside, knowing damn well that he'd done it to himself again--thought just a little too much about how much he missed him. 

 

The sun had set hours ago, but these days he didn't get much sleep anyway, so it didn't really matter to him. He sat on his bed, surrounded by the dim orange glow of the lamp and his own dark thoughts. 

 

He remembers the day the gang took him in. Everyone was so cold and too hard on him, expected too much too quick out of the orphan. But not Arthur. 

 

Arthur, who was patient and gentle and kind with him, despite years of mindlessly killing folks and robbing banks. Arthur, who taught him everything he knew and molded John into the man he was. 

 

John felt a hot tear slide down his cheek. He reached over to grab Arthur's hat from its permanent spot on the nightstand. 

 

He remembers how it looked on him--resting perfectly atop that golden hair that John would give anything to run his hands through just one more time--remembers how those locks felt, gripped tightly in his hands as the two of them crashed their lips together for the first time. 

 

_"You ever done this before, Johnny Boy?" Arthur breathed hotly into his ear. He could feel the hardened length in John's pants against his thigh._

 

_"Well no, but you can teach me, right?" John admitted, embarrassed but too aroused to care._

 

_"That what you want?" Arthur pulled away to look him in the eyes. "Only if you're absolutely sure."_

 

_John, surprising himself with the lack of hesitation in his voice, gazes back at him. "I ain't ever been more sure in my life. Please," He ground his crotch down to get more friction against Arthur's leg. "Ah--Teach me, Arthur,"_

 

John could feel the beginnings of arousal stirring in his groin. He wasn't proud of himself in moments like these, but it sure as hell beat crying himself to sleep. He palmed his cock through his pants before unbuttoning them and letting them drop to the floor. He spit in his hand and wrapped his hand around himself, pumping slowly. 

 

"Fuck, Arthur," He groaned, running his free hand through his long, dirty hair. 

 

_Arthur cupped the back of John's head with his big, warm hand, and kissed him again, much more gentle this time. John was still much too eager, kissing back just a little too hard, but Arthur wasn't gonna stop him now. He shifted to position his growing erection against John's and canted his hips._

 

_"God, yeah," The younger moaned through gritted teeth. John grabbed on to Arthur's shoulder for support as his wide hips moved in little circles in his lap._

 

_"Shit, that's it," Arthur moved his hands down to grip the boy's narrow waist, then down to squeeze his ass. John pressed his face to Arthur's neck, breathing heavily. He inhaled the outlaw's scent--A mix of cloves, sweat, and musk--And felt a hot spurt of precum soil his front. "Arthur," He whispered. "Fuck me."_

 

_Arthur was harder than he'd been in years._

 

_"You s-" He began before John interrupted him with a sloppy kiss and took his hand, placed it over the wet patch on his pants, and bucked his hips into it. "I told you already, I'm sure. Now please," He huffed. "I need you."_

 

John was desperate now. He scooted further onto the bed and repositioned himself. He used the wetness on his hand as lube and inserted a finger into himself, remembering how careful Arthur was every time it was his hand that he was using to stretch him with. "Arthur," He sobbed. "Arthur, Arthur, God, need it, need you," Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, his own two fingers inside grazing his prostate making his dick impossibly harder. The hand jerking his precum-slicked cock sped up and the lewd smacking sound drowned out the noise of his own sobs.

 

He knew he was close now. John remembered how Arthur's thick length felt the first time, how it hurt so fucking good, how the warm, comforting weight of his wide frame pressed up against him from behind made him feel the safest he'd ever been, remembered Arthur taking his hand before he spent himself inside of John.

 

He remembers how Arthur always fussed over him when they were through, making sure he was okay, telling him how good he was and how much he loved him. 

 

"Don't leave me Arthur, please, don't go, fuck--Love you so goddamn much--"

 

A few more strokes and he was done, cum staining the front of his shirt, dripping down his hand. The tears came harder now and John's sobs wracked his frame. He couldn't breathe, he was gasping for air around pleas for the only person he had ever fully, truly loved, not to leave him.

 

"H-How could you, fuckin'  _b-bastard,_ " He rolled onto his side and buried his filthy hands into his tangled hair. "Leave me all alone like this, I got nobody,  _fuck you,_ I fuckin' hate you!" John knew this was far from the truth.

 

He wailed and screamed obscenities into the air until the tears on his cheeks were dry and his throat was raw. John sat up, slipped out of his ruined shirt, and used it to haphazardly clean himself up. He tossed it to the ground and got under the covers, picking up Arthur's hat from where he left it on the bed and gingerly placing it it on the pillow next to his head. 

 

"Goodnight, Arthur," He said to nobody. "I love you."

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i am......so sorry  
> title obviously inspired by the song hurt by johnny cash  
> i got this idea in my head and i had to get it out so i chugged some monster and wrote this at 3 in the morning  
> this game made me too emotional i hate it so much


End file.
